Deathbed
by SpaceCat010
Summary: (Old Stuff) To accept and move on from something was a funny thing, it meant dropping something almost entirely, leaving it to rest, to be remembered yet untouched, to be happy with the results regardless of the outcomes that were presented. Acceptance, really, was just what Marcus needed. His father died happy, so maybe, just maybe he could find happiness in that.


_I'm back!  
__Just a heads up, this is gonna be really bittersweet. I've had to experience the loss of a family member before, but I got the idea for this when I read "On That Sunny Afternoon" by Etched in Fire. It's a really great story about Fox coping with his parent's death, so that got me thinking - how would Marcus handle it?  
Please remember to leave a review, I'll be back with another story at some point in time.  
_

**_"Deathbed" by SpaceCat010_**

* * *

Marcus nearly sprinted into the hospital lobby when he got the call. Were it not for the sliding glass doors, people going in and out, or the sickening feeling of actually getting to where he was headed, he would've run faster than an arwing flying across the sky at max speed. Word would inevitably get out, Cornerian news would make a headline, and the currently planet-side third generation of the Star Fox team would have to avoid being mobbed as usual.

James McCloud Jr., better known as Fox McCloud, one of the Lylat system's elite fighter pilots, Corneria's savior on numerous occasions, as well as a husband and father... was now on his deathbed.

After being lead through a series of corridors by the staff, he entered a room on one of the upper floors. Inside was a lone hospital bed, surrounded by multiple machines, and containing a dying middle aged vulpine.

Four years ago, Fox had been diagnosed with stage two lung cancer. Bacteria that had come from Venom's atmosphere had been lying dormant for nearly thirty years, and were now moving fast. Fox had lived alone at the time, as his wife Krystal had died from cardiovascular disease several months prior. As it turns out, being a mercenary and doing lots of work in dangerous (and sometimes toxic) environments wasn't exactly the best for anyone's health.

But, that was four years ago, and now was now. Now was the end of the final stage, after the cancer had spread to his other organs, the point at which the chances of surviving were effectively zero. Now was the end of another member of the McCloud family, a group of men and women that worked so hard to protect Lylat and her many planets. Now was a time for reality to come crashing down, a time for someone to leave, to never return, to a place where few could follow. Now was the end of an era. Now was the final moments that Marcus McCloud would ever experience with his father.

It was now or never.

Marcus slowly stepped into the room, his eyes fixated on the sleeping figure that was his father in the hospital bed. Already feeling a lump form in his throat, he did his best to fight it back as he shakily spoke.

"Dad?"

The orange vulpine's fading emerald eyes opened slowly, and softened when they met those of his only son. Fox lifted his hand slightly as he spoke.

"Marcus."

It was not an order, not even a request, but rather a humble plea. A plea for help, for comfort, for calm. A plea for his only living blood relative to know that he would die peacefully and happy. A plea that he could have just one more moment with his only son in his final hours. Marcus quickly closed the distance between the two of them, and took hold of his father's hand as he knelt down beside his bed.

"How are you feeling, son?" The orange vulpine asked softly.

"I'm doing fine, but I'm more concerned with you." Marcus replied in a serious tone.

Fox's expression darkened slightly.

"I'm afraid that nothing can be done about it."

"How?" The blue fox asked. He knew (and hated) that it was impossible to save his father's life at this point, but he asked anyway.

"The cancer spread to my heart and liver. They can't stop the growth."

After some time of them both just sitting there, neither saying much, the constant and steady beep of the heart rate monitor by the bed had slowed down slightly, alarming Marcus and causing his eyes to widen as he feared what was to come.

"Dad... Dad, please don't go." His breathing quickened, his breath hitched.

Fox smiled slightly.

"I'm afraid I cannot change when or where I'll be going."

The heart rate monitor next to the hospital bed began to slow down a little more.

"No... Dad, please no." Tears gathered at the corners of Marcus' eyes. He gripped his father's hand tighter.

"I'm off to see your mother, Marcus. We'll be... Up in the clouds... Together... Watching over you."

Tears started rolling down the blue fox's cheeks. Fox seemed to cry a little as well as his sad smile only grew wider. The heart rate monitor slowed down even more.

"Dad..." Marcus trailed off as he wiped his tears on his shirt sleeve.

Marcus could feel the life slipping away from his father's body as he held onto what little he had left.

"Don't ever give up... My son."

Fox closed his eyes slowly as his heart rate monitor slowed down until it ceased.

The heart rate monitor flat-lined, its dull tone being the only sound that filled the room aside from Marcus' quiet sobs as he held onto his dead father's hand for the next twenty minutes. Shifting his hand slightly, he felt something in between his and Fox's. Opening up his hand revealed a piece of paper, carrying on it a message and the signature of his father. After wiping away his tears, his eyes carefully scanned over the note.

_Do not stand at my grave and weep._  
_I am not there; I do not sleep._  
_I am a thousand winds that blow,_  
_I am the diamond glints on snow,_  
_I am the sun on ripened grain,_  
_I am the gentle autumn rain._  
_When you awaken in the morning's hush,_  
_I am the swift uplifting rush._  
_Of quiet birds in circled flight_,  
_I am the soft stars that shine at night._  
_Do not stand at my grave and cry,_  
_I am not there; I did not die._

_Goodbye for now, Marcus._

_With Love,  
__James McCloud Jr._

Marcus stared at the note for what felt like an eternity, then folded it up as he placed it in his pocket. As much as he didn't want to accept it, his father, the most skilled among pilots, the most feared among mercenaries, the bravest among militia, the hero of Lylat, the liberator of Sauria, the savior of the blue vixen that eventually became his mother, the kindhearted yet fearless, outgoing man known as his father, was gone.

As much as he didn't want to, he could practically hear his father's voice in his head right now, telling him to keep his chin up, to not put himself through the agony of wallowing in his own self-loathing and sorrow.

All he needed was acceptance, to move on, to walk with his head high and his spirits up. Coping would take time, he knew that, but he wouldn't let himself mope around and do nothing. His father would jump right out of his soon-to-be grave in Corneria City Cemetery, slap the sadness right out of him and tell him to get his act together if he did that.

To accept and move on from something was a funny thing, it meant dropping something almost entirely, leaving it to rest, to be remembered yet untouched, to be happy with the results regardless of the outcomes that were presented. Acceptance, really, was just what Marcus needed. His father died happy, so maybe, just maybe he could find happiness in that.

To move on was exactly what Marcus needed.

* * *

Several years had passed, and Marcus stood near two of several gravestones in a special section of Corneria City Cemetery. In front of him were the final resting places of both his parents, Fox and Krystal McCloud. The former was one of the greatest pilots and bravest mercenaries the Lylat system had ever seen, and the latter was the most kind-hearted, loving woman he'd ever met.

He looked up to see a reporter trying to snap a picture of him from a distance, and he shot them a look that read _'not now.'_ It was pretty easy for them to get the message given the telepathy he inherited from his mother, as the reporter left soon after.

Sure, they probably would've died in a firefight due to them both being mercenaries, but they had made it so far. Why did they have to die so soon? Fox was only 57 when he died, and Krystal was 50.

_Why?_

Even though he had so many questions and so little answers, he focused on the happy memories of him and his parents when he was younger. He turned towards the gate to the cemetery, and thought about one thing as he left the burial ground.

He just wished his parents could see him now.

And he knew they probably could.

* * *

_Thank you all for reading and reviewing, SpaceCat010 out._


End file.
